|Posted by annabelsheila on May 16, 2010 at 5:54 PM||comments (1)|
She weeps black tears that destroy
Every living thing they touch.
In her agony, she writhes
Rolling, restless, bewildered!
She has always nurtured them,
Yet they seek to destroy her.
And she is like a helpless child.
Defenceless, she cannot defy them
For they are obsessed with greed,
And will stop at nothing to ensure
Their cups overfloweth!
They have defiled her, raped her,
And beaten her consistently
With a growing intensity.
Yet for these atrocities,
There were no consequences!
But inevitably she will have her revenge,
For what will be left
After she has succumbed to their torture?
What will they have gained?
They cannot breathe the air;
Food supplies have disappeared;
And they thirst, but the water is poison;
The beautiful oceans that surround us,
Belong to every single creature
That inhabits our struggling planet!
What right do we have to destroy,
That which was never ours alone?
Our oceans are weeping, as they surrender
And the sound is deafening!
© Annabel Sheila
|Posted by annabelsheila on September 26, 2008 at 9:12 AM||comments (6)|
Sadness weighs heavily upon my heart,
Human tragedy, devastating loss of life;
A struggling nation where poverty is an epidemic,
They faced the wrath of nature yet again.
Haiti, land of sunshine and misery,
Where the rich thrive, and the poor perish.
Mother Earth drew a deep breath,
And as she exhaled, a shuddering groan
Shook all that lay against her bosom.
There was no anger in her deed.
She did not intend to destroy.
Calamity was beyond her control.
With the very earth shaking beneath their feet,
There was nowhere to run.
Palaces and shanties alike reduced to rubble,
Entombing those who could not escape.
Cries from beneath mountains of stone,
Echo through the streets.
Helpless, they weep for those they cannot reach.
Battered and beaten, they are defeated.
They hold the loved ones they can,
And grieve for those that are lost.
Now the wealthy and poor are united at last,
For there is no discrimination when catastrophe strikes.
But out of the destruction, hope will rise,
Like the brilliant sunshine that warms
Their beloved country.
Nations will join together to assist them.
For we hear their cries, and our hearts weep,
We will take their hands and hold them tightly,
Comfort them, and lift them from the dust.
Sometimes I question,
Whether compassion for humanity still exists,
Then at times like this, I see it
In all its splendour!
And my faith is restored once more.
© Annabel Sheila